


over the wood and under

by thmpr



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, apprentices doing non-typical apprentice things, minor Transphobia, no prophecies here, romance? idk, trans protag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29742855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thmpr/pseuds/thmpr
Summary: one cat comes back, another leaves. a clan takes stock of the proverbial skeletons in its proverbial closet.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	over the wood and under

**x**

Rockpaw skidded along the riverbank, claws scrabbling to find sure footing in the thick mud. Dark water swirled a tail-length away from her as she slid to a halt, quivering with exhaustion. The frantic pounding of her heart mixed with the sounds of the heavy wind and pouring rain to fill her body with a dull roar that grew and grew until the apprentice was sure StarClan itself was surrounding her. She crouched low, flinching as her belly touched the cold muck but pressing herself into the ground as if she could anchor there forever. 

Faint yowls came from the distance, and Rockpaw’s pelt spiked. 

_I thought I outran them!_

She hauled herself up from the mud and stared around wildly, looking for any sign of possible shelter from the storm and her pursuers.

Spotting a fallen tree a little ways upriver, Rockpaw willed her legs to move faster as she strained away from the clinging riverbank. Her stride faltered as she slipped once, heart jumping to her throat, but she quickly recovered and leaped to a patch of grass. She spun around, eyes scanning the hill for any sign of approaching cats, exhaling sharply when she caught a glimpse of a lean white pelt through the downpour. 

Head pounding, Rockpaw turned and sprinted for the tree. She jumped over, clearing it easily, but missed the landing and hit the wet ground hard. Grunting, she pulled herself closer to the trunk, praying that she hadn’t made too much noise.

Thunder crashed. Rockpaw squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the white-hot pain in her shoulder.

_What would Spotpaw say if he had seen me land that hard?_

The thought flashed into her head before she could stop it, and for an instant her entire body lit up with fire. She slammed her head to the ground, audibly gasping for air. 

_I can’t think about him. I shouldn’t think about him. I won’t think about him. He’s not here for a reason._ I’m _not here for a reason. He wouldn’t want me to think about him. They wouldn’t want me to think about him. I need to forget him. I have to forget him. He can’t live inside of me anymore. I don’t want him to live inside of me anymore._

Slowly her brain calmed, and she was raising her head only slightly when a wide paw jabbed her in the flank, sparking new fear. 

“What in StarClan’s name are you doing out here?”

Rockpaw met eyes with the growling gray-brown tabby, but couldn’t get the breath to respond. The tom stared at her for another heartbeat, then stepped back. “Rockpaw, you need to come with us,” he mewed softly. All anger was gone from his words, replaced with a steely absence of emotion. “You’ll be safer back at camp.” He paused, taking in Rockpaw’s sodden pelt, and snorted quietly. “Drier, too.”

As the wind howled around them, Rockpaw let her gaze drift across the three cats in front of her. 

_Mossfang._ The light brown molly had her head down, rain pouring off of her ears. Her tail lashed once, the only thing betraying her otherwise calm demeanor. Rockpaw felt her stomach lurch; Mossfang was one of the most respected warriors in the Clans.

 _Flypaw._ The small black tom’s eyes stared back at her. Wide and green, they glittered in the low light, almost as if they were trying to tell Rockpaw something. His paws were coated in mud and Rockpaw only caught a glimpse of his unsheathed claws before a deep grunt spun her head to face the final cat.

 _Ratpelt._ Rockpaw’s chest heaved as she looked at her mentor, struggling to find words—any words. He tilted his head to one side, appraising her the way he did when she missed a catch, or fumbled a battle move. She felt herself grow smaller and smaller as his eyes burned into her body, scrutinizing every detail: every scrape, every drop of mud, every hard muscle. He nodded tightly, almost to himself, and turned to look at his companions.

“You’ll have to carry him,” he mewed grimly. “I think his shoulder might be dislocated.”

**o**

Spotpaw jumped as his flank brushed against the RidgeClan apprentice’s. 

“A-Are you sure that we should be here?” He gulped nervously, eyes darting around the hollow. Even though he was a medicine cat apprentice, and therefore had a certain degree of freedom across the territories, he was still terrified of upsetting any other Clans.

The apprentice purred—thick and heavy, like honey. 

“I think this is the only place I would ever want to be.”

**x**

There was rain in Brantpaw’s nest again. Fat, clear drops seeped through the woven roof of the medicine cat den, damp on his paws when he stretched his legs out. He yawned wide, breathing in the scent of the morning air and working away the stiffness of sleep. He pushed himself to his paws, glancing over to the herb store to make sure no rain had reached the cracks deep in the boulder. Satisfied that it was dry, he nosed his way out of the catmade half of the den, flinching as he stepped directly into a shallow puddle. Shaking his paw out, he stared at his distorted reflection for a heartbeat.

 _That’s really me? StarClan, I need more sleep,_ he snorted to himself.

Scanning the camp for his mentor, he made eye contact with his brother, Flypaw. The skinny tom jumped up from the fresh-kill pile and dodged several warriors returning from the dawn patrol to meet Brantpaw, worry in his gait.

“What’s wrong?” Brantpaw mewed, brushing his tail along his brother’s flank. “Where’s Ratpelt? I thought he was leading your patrol.”

Flypaw jerked away from Brantpaw’s tail, eyes wide. “Rockpaw’s hurt,” he hissed. “And Ratpelt’s with her.”

Brantpaw’s fur bristled.

“She’s back? Where-”

“By the river,” Flypaw mewed. “I came to fetch you and Sunfur, but she said to let you sleep.” He sighed. “It’s just her shoulder and Sunfur didn’t sound too worried, but-”

“Ratpelt’s there,” Brantpaw broke in bitterly. “Why did _he_ have to be the one to find her? Every cat in the Clan knows they hated each other.”

“I know,” Flypaw growled. “I wish I had seen her on my own. Then at least I could have warned her that Dad was on the patrol with me.” He paused, sorrow flickering in his eyes. “She’ll leave if she can, I know it. She doesn’t want to be here.”

Brantpaw’s mind was whirling. Ratpelt, his and Flypaw’s father, had been made Rockpaw’s mentor after Herontuft, Rockpaw’s original mentor, had accidentally drowned last leaf-bare. Half of RidgeClan blamed Rockpaw for not trying to pull Herontuft out of the river, and the other half avoided her anyway. Ever since, Rockpaw had withdrawn from the rest of the Clan, going through the motions of training without any drive and only interacting with her denmates when she was forced to. Flypaw had been one of her closest friends, and even he was shut out. Brantpaw winced as he remembered the rejection in his brother's stance every time Rockpaw ate alone or curled up in her nest before sunset.

Two sunrises ago, RidgeClan had awoken to find Rockpaw missing. Her nest in the apprentices’ den was cold, and her scent trail was faint by the time a patrol was sent to look for her. There was no sign of a struggle, and most of the Clan had taken her disappearance as an admission of guilt; a broken apprentice, unable to cope with her role in the death of her mentor. Brantpaw and Flypaw had been the most worried for her, although their pleas to keep searching had been largely ignored. Gravelstar had agreed to post extra guards outside of camp the first night, but quietly ordered them back to the warriors’ den when they returned for their next shift. 

Brantpaw’s ears flattened. _What if Ratpelt hurts her?_ He turned to face the camp entrance. “I have to get to her,” he murmured. “They’re by the river?”

Flypaw shook his head. “Closer to camp. We tried to carry her all the way back but Dad said we couldn’t make it and sent me on ahead for Sunfur,” he mewed. He moved to stand next to Brantpaw, shaking slightly. “StarClan, I wish she hadn’t come back,” he growled, almost under his breath.

Brantpaw pulled away to stare at his brother. “Wait—you mean she left on purpose?” He sucked in a breath. _Was she trying to leave the Clan for good?_

Flypaw grunted. “Dad tried to drag what happened out of her. All she would say is that she couldn’t be here anymore,” he mewed thickly. He pulled away from Brantpaw, tail twitching. “If you want to go, you should do it now.”

A clap of thunder rang out. Brantpaw stared at his brother for another heartbeat and then sprinted towards the camp entrance, shaking his pelt out to dislodge some of the rain. _I have to get there,_ he thought wildly. _I need to get there._

 **—** ****

Brantpaw hared across the territory, paws stinging from the gravel of the ancient Twoleg path that wound its way through RidgeClan. Even though he hated being near it and its faint acrid smell, he had to concede that it was by far the fastest way to reach the badger sett from camp. Its slow twists and turns had carved through the landscape since before HoarClan first settled by the sea. RidgeClan’s territory was bounded on two sides by its eponymous low ridges, blue in the distance from camp, and was largely a thick heath populated with shale patches and the occasional gnarled tree; as a result, the other medicine cats often teased Brantpaw and his mentor about their “dead land” at Gatherings.

As he ran, he tried to push thoughts of his father and Rockpaw out of his head. _I’ll be there soon,_ he reminded himself. _Just one more curve, and then just over that hill, and then-_

A pained yowl stopped him in his tracks. Jerking his head around to find its source, he pricked his ears at the low sound of cats arguing. Praying to StarClan that his guess of their location was correct, he broke away from the Twoleg path and pushed through a tangle of weeds to reach the top of the hill sooner. He scrambled up the steep, rocky slope, claws scratching on the slate as he held his breath and forced down the nausea in his stomach. _One wrong pawstep, and I’m crowfood!_

With a final jump, he crested the hill and stood for a few heartbeats to catch his breath, scanning the landscape for the voices he heard down on the path. With a jolt, he spotted three cats near a large lichen-covered boulder. Gathering his strength, he broke into an unsteady run across the hilltop, skirting sharp rocks as he strained to hear what his Clanmates were saying. His fur ruffled; they were arguing.

As he neared the boulder, Mossfang whirled on him with a fierce hiss, then relaxed when she recognized her apprentice’s brother. She padded forward to meet him, nodding over her shoulder at Sunfur, crouched near Rockpaw. “Go help your mentor,” she mewed nonchalantly. Brantpaw flicked his ears in response, still out of breath, and forced himself to run the last few tail-lengths over to Rockpaw.

“Brantpaw! What are you doing here?” Sunfur mewed with surprise, eyes wide at seeing her apprentice appear out of nowhere. Brantpaw dipped his head and opened his mouth to speak, but a large brown tail sweeping over his shoulders stayed his tongue. With a prickle of unease, he turned to look at his father.

“Come to help his friend, no doubt. These young toms always had a bond,” Ratpelt grunted. His eyes were stony, but his tone was light when he continued, “I hope you can convince him to stay with us this time, Brantpaw. What would the other Clans think if they found out we couldn’t keep our apprentices under control?”

Anger sparked in Brantpaw, but he forced himself to keep his claws sheathed, steadying his voice before replying. “I can’t tell her what to do, Dad. She’s her own cat,” he mewed tightly. _Why does he have to do this in front of her?_

Ratpelt twitched an ear, but otherwise didn’t react. Slowly, he removed his tail from Brantpaw’s back. “All apprentices need to learn the value of loyalty. If he never-”

“Ratpelt!” Sunfur’s irritated mew cut through the warrior’s. “I need Brantpaw’s help. Rockpaw’s shoulder isn’t getting any better,” she added curtly. 

Brantpaw, thankful for the interruption, padded towards his mentor, trying to catch Rockpaw’s eye as he got closer. The gray molly was staring dully into the air and only looked up when Sunfur murmured that she needed to try to put her shoulder back in its socket. Rockpaw nodded briefly, then returned to her blank stare before Brantpaw could meet her gaze. Sighing inwardly, he positioned himself on Rockpaw’s other side so he could keep her stable while Sunfur reset her shoulder. 

As the medicine cat worked, Brantpaw noticed that Rockpaw stayed deathly still the whole time. Even when Sunfur pushed her shoulder back into position with a sickening crack, he only felt Rockpaw’s body tense for the smallest heartbeat. _It’s like she’s not even in there,_ he thought worriedly. _Where had she gone?_

Sunfur stepped back, assessing her work while Ratpelt paced impatiently behind her. “Rockpaw, I’m going to need you to try to stand,” she mewed brightly, although Brantpaw caught a hint of worry behind her cheery voice. He saw Mossfang blink in surprise and felt the stirrings of panic deep in his chest. _Why don’t they think she can stand?_

Rockpaw stayed motionless for a heartbeat, then pushed herself up from the ground. Brantpaw’s heart leaped, and he was about to reach his tail out to touch his friend’s flank when she suddenly stumbled, falling back onto the soaked grass with a pained grunt. Sunfur rushed forward, but Rockpaw was already pushing herself up again. She fixed Sunfur with a furious glare and muttered an oath to StarClan, her gravelly voice almost a hiss, as she took a slow step towards the medicine cat.

Brantpaw automatically moved forward to press his pelt against Rockpaw’s, keeping her steady. He tensed for a moment, expecting to get pushed away, but was relieved when he felt her relax slightly into his body. Sunfur blinked once, then nodded abruptly. “If you can make it back to camp like this, that would be ideal,” she mewed, screwing her eyes up as she lifted her head to the rain. “Being out here isn’t doing you any good.”

Brantpaw shivered as she spoke, the feeling of Rockpaw’s wet fur on his suddenly uncomfortably cold. He twisted to blink at the gray molly, eyes questioning, but Rockpaw didn’t turn her head to meet him. She stared straight ahead, water streaming down her broad head as the group slowly began to move back towards camp.

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: expect no consistent update schedule! college is unpredictable
> 
> yeah idk ive always wanted to write a very self-indulgent erin-style fic and its taken me this long to do it. see yall around


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